Christina Baker Kline - Orphan Train Girl

MOLLY

SPRUCE HARBOR, MAINE, PRESENT DAY

Well, Jacks mom says from the drivers seat. This is it.

Molly, sitting next to Jack in the backseat of the car, eyes the house. Three full stories. More windows than she can count. Carved curlicues around the roof. The white paint is fresh and gleaming.

This is the house where Jacks mom works for a rich old lady. And now Molly ismaybegoing to work for that rich old lady too. All because she stole a book.

Well, she didnt actually steal it. Although its true she was going to.

Molly had been in the Spruce Harbor Public Library, on her knees in the fiction section with three copies of The Secret Garden on the shelf in front of her. Shed pulled all three copies off the shelf. Put the hardcover back. Then the newer paperback too. The one she kept was old and dog-eared, the cover missing a corner, the yellowed pages beginning to come loose from the cheap binding. She figured nobody would miss it, and she slipped it into her backpack.

But when Molly put the backpack over her shoulders and stood up, the librarian, Mrs. LeBlanc, swooped down on her like a homing pigeon. She called Ralph and Dina, Mollys foster parents. Dina hit the roof. Molly had way too many problems, she said. She never signed up for this, she said.

Ralph calmed her down and called Lori, Mollys social worker.

Why in the world would you try to steal an old book? Lori asked Molly.

I dont know, Molly said. But that wasnt entirely true. The Secret Garden is all about a girl who has to leave her home and travel to a cold, rainy place where nobody wants her. A girl who scowls and sulks and says horrible things and still ends up with a homea mansion, actuallyand a family.

Lori came up with a plan for Molly to do twenty hours of community service. Dina grudgingly agreed that Molly could stay, as long as she finished her hours.

And Jackwho is the best friend Mollys ever hadheard his mom grumbling about needing to help Mrs. Daly clean out her attic, and came up with the idea for Molly to do it instead. If Mrs. Daly likes Molly. If she says yes.

Molly thinks it might have been simpler just to let Dina kick her out.

Okay, Jack says quickly. Heres the deal. Mrs. Dalys okay for an old lady, but kind of... old-fashioned.

His mom pivots to look at Molly. What Jack means is, you need to mind your manners. Dont slouch. Say please and thank you.

What I mean is, shes kind of uptight, Jack says.

How old is she again? Molly mumbles.

I dont know. Pretty old.

Come on, you two, his mom says. Might as well get this over with. She gets out of the car and heads up the walk toward the house.

Molly is suddenly nervous. She looks down at her too-big pink blouse and attempts to tuck it into her skirt. The blouse is Dinas; she insisted Molly borrow it, saying it would be disrespectful to Mrs. Daly to wear her usual black T-shirt over black jeans over worn-out black tennis shoes. Maybe if you look a little more respectable, Mrs. Daly will overlook that blue streak in your hair, Dina said.

Jack opens his car door, then hesitates. He leans toward Molly. Listen. Mom didnt tell her about you stealing the book.

Molly twitches in her seat. She didnt?

No. Just that you have to do a community service project. She thinks its for school, like everybody has to do one, he says. Got it? Then he bounds out of the car and waits for Molly on the driveway.

Molly slides out more slowly. So this rich lady doesnt know that Molly is a thief. Thats goodright?

Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it means that Mrs. Daly will expect Molly to be what she definitely isntjust like every other kid.

Gloomily, Molly follows Jack up the walk. Its one of those rare days when spring in Maine actually feels like spring, but even the warm April sun doesnt help her mood.

Just nod and smile. Thats what I do when I have to talk to her, Jack whispers as they climb the porch steps.

Molly feels like she is shrinking inside herself, getting smaller with each step as she follows Jacks mom inside and down a long hall. She tugs at the collar of the stupid pink blouse, thinking about the scene in The Secret Garden when Mary Lennox arrived at Misselthwaite Manor. When Mary got there, her uncle insisted that she get rid of all her dark clothes. I wont have a child dressed in black, wandering about like a lost soul, he said. Molly feels like a fake in this outfit, and a bad fake at that. When was the last time she wore something pink? Or a blouse with a collar?

At the end of the hallway is a closed door. Jacks mom pauses before it and knocks softly. Vivian? She opens the door a crack. All right for us to come in?

Molly hears the faint reply beyond the door: Why, certainly. Jacks mom opens the door wider, and Molly and Jack follow her into a large sunny living room. The wide windows are filled with the bright, restless blue of the sea. Sitting in a red wingback chair, wearing a snug cream-colored sweater that looks as soft as a kittens fur, is an old lady. The old lady. The one who owns this giant house.

Good morning, the old lady says.

Good morning, Jacks mom says. Vivian, you know my son, Jack.

He lifts his hand in a small wave. Nice to see you, Mrs. Daly.

And this is the girl I told you about. Molly Ayer. She gestures at Molly to step forward.

Molly, this is Mrs. Daly, she says.

Nod and smile, Molly thinks. She nods and smiles and holds out her hand for Mrs. Daly to take. The old womans hand is dry and cool. Nice to meet you, Molly, she says.

All right, then. I have some things to do in the kitchen, Jacks mother says. Jack, why dont you come with me?

Cant I stay and

I could use some help. Jack trails after his mother, casting a glance back at Molly that is probably meant to be encouraging.

Now Molly and Mrs. Daly are alone.

Mrs. Daly leans forward a little in her chair. She looks at Molly with interest.

Molly fights an urge to start babbling. Shed like to explain to Mrs. Daly that Jack came up with this terrible idea and then asked his mom. Although Molly doesnt know that much about real momsmoms who actually take care of their kidsshe can tell that his mom doesnt say no to Jack, not much, not when its something he really wants. And so Mollys here.

But now that Mrs. Daly has seen Molly, has seen the blue streak in her dark hair and the look on her face (Mollys trying not to have that look on her face, but its there, she can feel it), they can all quit pretending that Molly is the kind of kid who does community service in peoples attics. And she can just go. Like always.

How on earth do you achieve that effectthe blue stripe? Mrs. Daly asks. She reaches up and brushes the hair at her own temple.

Smile and nod. But Mrs. Daly has asked her a question, so Molly has to answer: Um... I separated out this one part and bleached it. Then I went back and dyed it blue.

How did you learn to do it?

I saw a video on YouTube.

YouTube?

On the internet?

Ah. Mrs. Daly lifts her chin. The computer. Im too old for such fads.

Molly blinks again. This old lady doesnt have a computer? Shes never heard of YouTube?